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Thigh gap

I joined a gym. It recently opened next to my house. The boy behind the counter started saying unpleasant numbers, like $62 for this and $125 for that.

I channeled my inner Desi auntie in a display of skills that would make me cringe in the past as a little girl watching my mom haggling and ended up paying $10 to join. 

I’m so excited. I have a little keychain card and everything. 

I had taken it as a sign that I needed to start working out again when my Panera Bread swipe card snapped off my keychain from overuse. 

Also, my job will kill me if I allow it. I’ve been letting 20 percent of my week dictate the other 80 percent but it’s time to do a switcheroo. 

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muslim women fitness, The Muslim Orange

Fake it ’til you make it

It’s true when they say 90 percent of life is in showing up. Lately the amount of effort it takes to go from fast asleep in bed to ready and out the door is increasing exponentially. My girly six-pack is disappearing, I don’t have as much energy, and I have been slaaaacking on exfoliation. Then there is the whole spiritual malaise thing. That is troubling all by itself.

So, another LIST. Yes, I’m a fan.

  • Pray, on time, everyday insha Allah.
  • Exfoliate like it’s going out of style…use that body scrub woman!
  • Ab work everyday with Mr. Stuck in the 90s YouTube man
  • Walk three times around the block before maghrib (equivalent to one mile)
I can’t believe it, I walked three times around the neighborhood block with my sister tonight and my legs are actually a little sore. Three times. Around the block. I’m so out of it!
muslim women fitness

So. Tired.

Went to my uncle’s house last night. When he saw me he said, “Wow, you look good. I’m not ashamed to call you my neice anymore!” I was like, woohoo! Non-shame inducing neice FTW! (He was jhoking, don’t vorry.)

He told us this funny story about a friend of his who does drywalling, really excellent drywalling. He only speaks Spanish, so he had not yet discovered the wonders of Craigslist. My uncle put up an ad for him  using many superlatives like “BEST DRYWALLING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE” or something to that effect.

My uncle gets a call from “Sal.” Sal tells my uncle that he needs some drywalling done, and they exchange information and arrange a time for 11 AM on such-and-such date. Sal lives pretty far south of Orlando, so my uncle and the drywalling guy make sure they get there exactly at 11 AM.

The guy isn’t there. My uncle calls him, and he says that he is kinda far away, and he’ll be there soon. He gets there at 11:45.

“Sal” turns out to be “Salim.” He shortened his name because, “you know, I’ve been here a long time, and it’s just easier blah blah blah…”

Of course, when he sees my uncle is also Desi, he starts making noises about price, how much, blah blah, typical Desi nakhray (hemming-and-hawing).

In Spanish, my uncle tells his friend, “Look man, this guy isn’t gonna want to give you anything, better charge him double.”

They tell “Sal” the cost of installing the drywall will be $300. Sal protests that is too much. How about $200? No, no, $200 for this kind of work, you gotta be kidding me. They finally settle on $250.

“$250!” my uncle crows. “For two pieces of drywall! I don’t know why he changed his name to “Sal,” he should have called himself Salla!”

The power went off last night. Around 11:30 PM I heard this “BOOM!” and then everything went dark and the ever-present hum of electricity just stopped. It didn’t sound like a lightening strike, more like an overload. The power didn’t come back on until morning.

I was looking in vain for our heavy-duty hurricane torch and had to settle on an old dinky flashlight. I checked on grandma, and lo and behold, the hurricane torch is clutched in her hands. “Ye kaisa “on” hosakta?” she asked. (How does this “on”?) I pressed the button. Behold, there was light.

Worked out today for an hour. I worked on the cardio machines for 30 minutes and then ran  laps around the track. I’m pretty sure it was more than 16 laps, but I lost count. Then I did some abs, and went to study a bit before my ASL student arrived for her appointment.

Later, my fitness student made an appearance for about 10 minutes, but then begged off because she was tired from the mile-run she had to do for class earlier. I thought about working out for another 45 minutes, but I was feeling pretty tired myself, so I came home.

Just had the last of my green pepper, green beans, bok choy, tomato and onion medley. I’m in the mood for a nice strong cup of chai, but I’m trying to resist because I really want to reset my sleep schedule. I only slept for a little bit after Fajr and I want to make sure I sleep early tonight.

muslim women fitness

Assalamu Alaikum!

Assalamu Alaikum World, and it’s many and sundry inhabitants! I’ve joined the blogosphere!

Now, you may think that my blog title, “Running Muslimah,” indicates that I’m a Muslimah (Muslim woman) who runs, correct?

WRONG!

The truth is, I WANT to run. The 3 laps I jogged around the track at school today don’t count. (Well, they do count, but I want to do it on a consistent basis!)

This is my dream, my goal: To run everyday, for 1 hour. Insha Allah (God willing!)

I made this blog because I want to share it with you, my dear reader. Perhaps you are a Muslim woman who has dreams of fitness, too!

Join me on my journey…beginning tomorrow. It’s 11:30 PM and I ain’t fit to run anywhere except the Land of Dreams.